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“You too, Jacob.”

He lingered a moment more, then turned, took his gaze around the neighborhood, and left.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Thank you for seeing me, Dr. Morrison. I know you were probably on your way out of the door when I called.”

“I was.”

The fifty-six-year-old gynecologist bent to grab her stool, sat, and gave Carla her attention. The rapport the two had stemmed from being introduced to Dr. Morrison by her cousin, London Valentine.

For the two women, finding an African-American doctor was necessary. It gave the assurance that the gynecologist would understand not only their bodies but their culture—and consider that when offering information. From the age of eighteen, Dr. Morrison had been Carla’s OB/GYN, so she was thankful to have her to come to in her current situation.

“Tell me—what’s your emergency?”

“I’ll give it to you straight.” Carla straightened her shoulders as she sat on the exam table. “I was out last night at a poetry lounge. To make a long story short, I was…taken back to my ex-boyfriend’s home, and when I woke up, I was naked. I need you to check me out and tell me if there are signs of sexual intercourse.”

Dr. Morrison also straightened her shoulders.

“You were taken?”

Carla blew out a breath. “Yes.”

“Ms. Jones—”

“I know what it sounds like.” She paused. “Listen, I know what it sounds like, but I’m not sure exactly what happened. I’m missing some of my memory.”

“You’re missing some of your memory because you had too much to drink, or…?”

“I didn’t have too much to drink!”

Dr. Morrison’s brows furrowed, Carla’s outburst silencing her. She watched her steadily, then tried again. “Do you need a rape kit, Ms. Jones?”

Carla’s eyes widened. “No.” She shook her head. “No, no, no.”

Dr. Morrison stared at Carla for a moment more. “You are more than welcome to refuse, but I do think if you’ve lost your memory and you woke up naked, you should have one.”

“I don’t want one. Lennox is a lot of things, but he’s not a rapist.”

“Hmm.”

“Can you check me out or not?”

“You said you were going to be straight up with me.”

“I am.”

“You’re not telling me everything.”

Carla let an exasperated sigh. “I smoked some weed. It was just a little joint. And I’d only hit it maybe twice, and…I remember nothing else after that.”

“Could it be possible that this Lennox may have put something in your joint?”

“Anything’s possible.”

“A rape kit would give you the biggest answer you’re looking for.”

“Jesus! Can you please stop with the rape kit? Lennox would never do something as nefarious as that.”